


Run Run Run

by Enjoltaire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 60s AU, Berlin Wall, I Tried, I don't know enough about the Berlin Wall to be writing this, I failed, I'm sorry this is crap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-25 23:34:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enjoltaire/pseuds/Enjoltaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is on the West Side of the Berlin wall. He's alone. He's waiting for good news from England. He's mourning. He gets a new neighbour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run Run Run

**Author's Note:**

> I am so very sorry. I know enough about the Berlin Wall to make it through this but I cannot go into detail at all so it's generally very vague. Again I apologize for my crap. But for anyone who doesn't know the wall was first a barbed-wired fence, the next day it was built up with cinder blocks. At that point it was just one wall. As it got bigger, more reinforced and as more people started to make their way out they created a no man's land in the middle (in some places not all) since not much was there anyway that had mines in them, guarded with machine guns. Remote places were still pretty basic but just so you don't judge me too hard.

 

Grantaire was on the West Side of Germany. His tenement was right on the wall so his view was of East Germany. It looked like the prison it was. But even so he enjoyed the sketches that came from it. That is until just across the wall they built a nearly identical tenement. Blocking everything. 

It was shabbily built but filled fast. It was only about five metres from him. If he really wanted he could jump to the other side, see what it was like. Directly across from his window was a nice old couple who would wave on occasion. But were evicted it seemed. He awaited his new neighbour eagerly. Wanting to know as much as he could about the East.

 His new neighbour came. He was gorgeous. But he was pale, and upset. His golden hair tangled, his clothes worn and ripped slightly. He seemed to be just with his father. He looked rather weary. He coughed and opened the window, speaking fast in what sounded like French. Grantaire waved from his window with a small smile.

 The boy knitted his eyebrows together and turned around to continue unpacking.

 

~~~~~

  

It wasn't until a week after they'd moved in that Grantaire got another look at the boy. He never seemed to be home but God knew where he went with all of those curfews. He came to the window, he had a scrape on his arm that wasn't there before. "Do you speak German?"

 He cocked his head. He knew how to ask about three things in French. 'Do you speak German' was one of them. He asked. The boy smirked and made a so-so gesture with his hand. Then said something in French. Grantaire held up his hand, gesturing for him to wait one second. His mother spoke french, they had the dictionary somewhere. He brought it out and was able to communicate to him what it was. 

 He muddled through his first french sentence. He thought he'd said. "Welcome to the neighbourhood. I know it's hard to live somewhere like this but it's not all bad."

 He actually said. "Welcome neighbour-friend. It is a hard living, not all the bad things are here."

 The boy laughed a little and nodded. Then requested Grantaire toss the dictionary over to him. The boy caught, just barely, making an 'oop' sound as he did. For a few minutes he flipped through pages them he too began a sentence. He thought he'd said, "Nice to meet you. I want to be on your side of the wall."

 He actually said. "Meeting is nice. Your wall side is a wanting."

 Grantaire cautiously nodded, thinking he had the gist of what the boy was communicating. Grantaire pointed to himself and said 'Grantaire'. The boy did the same. "Enjolras."

 Enjolras laughed at Grantaire's attempts to pronounce his name. Enjolras flipped through the dictionary a little more then spoke from it. "I am learning this language. I hope to succeed."

 "You can practice with me."

 "...Em...Slowing down your talk."

 Grantaire smirked and nodded. "Why did you move here?"

 "I...eh...was in the towns when soldiers say push away and burn our place. We are eh...how...immigrants?" Grantaire nodded to signal that he'd pronounced the correct word. "We run run run," he mimed running for him, "to England from France from the army. No have...eh...pass to be...alive...told leave for Germany."

 Grantaire requested the dictionary, he wanted to hear Enjolras talk in his own language. But Enjolras's german was much better than he could ever hope his french to be. "You...mother?"

 Enjolras spoke too fast. Grantaire just laughed, shook his head, and tossed the dictionary back. "My mother is no more."

 "My mother died as well. She protested the wall when it came up."

 "I do as well. Fight against wall. I learning to German to speak at people."

 "Protesting does nothing good. The army is too brutal."

 "Will not stand by!"

 "May I sketch you?"

 "What is meaning 'sketch'?"

 Grantaire held up his sketch pad and charcoal. Enjolras blushed and awkwardly adjusted in the window frame. God Enjolras was beautiful. His eyes watched the fighter jets make their rounds. Revealing to Grantaire how wonderfully blue they were. 

  

~~~~~~

 

They continued their broken conversations for a while. Enjolras was limited but he was very determined to learn German. He taped his battle-plans to a rock and tossed them to Grantaire. Graciously, but sloppily, translated into German. His writing was almost illegible. 

 But Enjolras had such a vision. He had speeches scheduled, he had protests prepared. He was willing, he just needed the German. He wrote at the bottom in splotchy ink 'please help my German, the country depends on it'. 

 

~~~~~

  

By the second month of Enjolras's living there Grantaire had fully admitted to himself that he loved Enjolras. Very, very much. He was mad, and upset and infuriated that Enjolras would be risking his life the way his late mother did, not giving a second thought to the repercussions. He hadn't met Enjolras's father, he was constantly working, but he knew he'd be heartbroken to lose his wife and son.

Then he did meet his father. Enjolras was ranting about something in a mix of french and broken german when his father called him a name in french. Grantaire looked it up later to mean 'lunatic'. Enjolras pointed to Grantaire and spoke in fast french. His father then smiled and waved. "Hello."

"You speak German?"

"My wife did. I speak some. He refuses to learn from me because I don't have the proper accent."

Grantaire rolled his eyes at the petulant Enjolras. "Nice having a neighbour, even if you are out of our reach...Do you live alone?"

"Yes, when everything happened my father took my sister, my mother took me. They went to England, we stayed here to hold everything down just in case. My father went to set something up for us in England. But my mother yelled something to one of the guards of the wall about the inequality and injustice and she was shot."

"That's terrible...I'm so sorry...How do you do it on your own? Shouldn't you find passage to England?"

"How can I? All I have left of her is right in this room."

 

~~~~~~

Grantaire was doodling when he saw movement in Enjolras's family's room. For these tenements were small and had only one room. Enjolras wasn't alone. But that wasn't his father. Great, Grantaire had been swooning over a boy who had his own. Oh and another. Great he had two boyfriends while Grantaire could just watch.

Enjolras hurried to the window though. Eager about something. "Grantaire, I have more french people. They speak like me."

"Wonderful."

"This is Combeferre and Marius."

They both waved. Combeferre spoke no German at all. He lived in a french area of town and had no need for german somehow. Marius however spoke every language it seemed. "Hello Grantaire! Funny you have a french name yet you're German."

"My father's parents were french...Why are you two over there?"

"Not just us two there are a few more of us. I know we have on that speaks Polish if that's any good for you. And two more that speak german. All part of Enjolras's great plan to tear the wall down."

 

~~~~~~

 

Grantaire watched from a distance as Enjolras ranted in french to his new-found friends. Enjolras german had improved greatly, it appeared he didn't need him anymore. So he was surprised when Enjolras began throwing things at his window to get his attention. "Why you don't open it anymore?"

"Because, you have others to teach you german."

"You have others as well but we come back to talk still. You don't cut me out," he instructed. Making a very matter-of-fact face as he did.

Grantaire smirked and nodded. "Fair enough. How is saving the world coming?"

"Em...it is moving along like a slow thing. But soon to speed up."

Grantaire smiled and nodded. He loved the words Enjolras could quite pronounce all the way without slipping into a french accent. And he blurted it out. "I love you."

"...Love...is meaning...love?"

"Yes, love. I love you."

Enjolras blushed terribly. Nothing more precious. He stumbled on french mixed with german a little before speaking. "I am no words...Time...to think."

  

~~~~~~

 

Enjolras thought for a very long time. What seemed like eternity but was only a week and a half. In that time they spoke only thrice. The rest of the time Grantaire was sincerely hoping he hadn't ruined the one good thing left in his life.

He sheepishly pushed his window open when he saw Enjolras's face on the other side. A small smile before breaking eye contact. "Good morning."

"Good morning."

"Have you thought yet?"

"I have. I am happy that the love is from you. But I have to work on Cause."

"Enjolras, don't you see? You wont survive it. Please don't kill yourself over something like this. It's awful but it's something to learn from. This wont stay up forever, it wont. It will come down and I will get to come to you." 

"...But that is not now."

"Enjolras, they'll kill you before you get to speak. No one will know what you're fighting for, just that the Soviets killed a young boy."

He just closed the window. Grantaire couldn't even fathom how furious, how upset, how depressed, how torn he was. What frustrated him most was that Enjolras wasn't escaping. This was an ignored portion of the border. So much so that population overflow was put close enough to speak to one another. Enjolras could easily just come over. Be free of the oppression. But he didn't even want that. He wanted _everyone_ to be free of the oppression.

How unrealistic.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Enjolras hadn't spoken to him in a very long time. He would've feared he'd been shot but towards the closing of every day he'd see him wandering through his room. Grantaire desperately wanted to talk to him, to shake sense into him. But he was so damned stubborn. 

He left his room. Bundled up and went for better, less-expired food. He tended to live off of pre-cooked meals. He had no thing he could possibly cook with at home anyway. He needed something that could and would be eaten cold. Bread, cheese, various fruits. Cheap farmer's market type foods. He was on his way back, admiring the art on the wall when he noticed a crowd. 

Screaming bloody murder up to a tenement building. A woman. She stood on her window's ledge. She was young, she was pretty. But it appeared she had nothing to lose. On Grantaire's side of the wall the crowd was beckoning her, saying she could make it across. Warnings were being blown through megaphones, telling her she'd be shot for jumping across. Firemen stood below with a net. 

He couldn't pull himself away though he knew this could only end badly. The woman built her momentum up, she was shot, then plummeted out of her window into the net of the firemen. Grantaire clenched his teeth and hurried home as the east side began attacking the few guards. He kept hearing gunshots and screams and cries of pain and he had to get home. 

The food he'd bought was dumped everywhere as he tried to steady his breathing. She'd just been shot. She was jumping to her new life and it ended before she could finish the thought. What would Enjolras be doing when they shot him? 

He collapsed against his door, body wracked with sobs. Not of sadness, not yet, but of despair. He could not do anything. Enjolras's mind was made up. He was already marked dead. And Grantaire couldn't do anything to talk him out of it. He could only wait until his father came home, sobbing, packing. Heading out to start a new life. Grantaire would give his condolences and wish him well. All while he stayed and rotted in the shanty he called home. 

He began to wonder if his father and sister were even alive. He hadn't seen them in so long. He wondered if he'd even recognize them now. As he sank deeper and deeper into a melancholy state he heard uneven tapping on his window. Upon opening it he was it in the forehead with a few pieces of gravel.

"I am apologize!"

"It's okay..." It wasn't okay, that fucking hurt. Stupid foreign little--this was still the love of his life. He could let this one slide.

"I am telling you news."

"News of what?"

"I am having protest for wall at tomorrow."

"Enjolras, please don't. Enjolras...come with me. Just climb over here, I'll take you and your father back with me to England and we'll be happy. Please. Please come with."

"...People need me Grantaire. Can't leave them all behind."

"You owe nothing to this country! You're french! Why must you save all of the downtrodden and oppressed, you're only going to get killed! Please don't do this."

"Other french here..."

"Enjolras they are all wealthier than you. They have the money to leave if and when it gets worse. You don't. All you have is this room. If you lose the room you stand in right now you'll lose any chance you had to leave."

"...Protest on wall...tomorrow on the 3 at 3."

He slammed his window shut. Grantaire groaned. So hard to watch a dead man. 

 

~~~~~~

 

He was on the three at three. 'Three' being a particularly large piece of graffiti. It was meant to be the holy trinity. Next to it was the Star of David. Well was once the Star of David. Someone had painted a swastika over it. Another still painted Jacob's ladder. 

Though his side of germany may not have been rid of all of it's nazis it was better than the east. In the east the pink triangle Grantaire wore on his sleeve wouldn't be taken as social satire but a confession.

He recalled when the 'wall' was a barbed fence. Now it was concrete. He'd heard rumors of a minefield being put between them all. A whole no man's land. He'd never see Enjolras again if that were to happen. He'd already lost his mother to the damned wall. But they were also still just finishing up building it all the way through. It'd take a few more years for it to get terribly worse.

The three at three. He heard a few people start ranting but didn't hear Enjolras's silky voice. Then he did. He was speaking in broken german and french. Talking about the oppressive nature of the Soviets, that one day the world would destroy them but today they would destroy the wall.

Gunshots. Lots of gunshots. Those on Grantaire's side jumped at the sound and began running home. Grantaire could only hope those on the opposite side had done the same. But the wall was so big, so concrete, he had no way of knowing who was alive over there.

Once the spraying of bullets had stopped Grantaire's weak voice shakily yelled 'Enjolras' over and over. Standing against the wall and weeping when he got no answer. He knew it'd happen sooner or later. But he'd so desperately hoped he was wrong.

Getting home was awful. Not seeing Enjolras with his messy blond hair staring back at him, ready to yell in broken German. He sketched. Furiously trying to forever memorize what Enjolras had looked like. He'd never touched him, felt him. But he knew what he looked like. Gravel against his window. He cautiously opened it to find Enjolras grinning back at him smugly.

"You lived! Oh thank God!"

"I run run run again. Fast." Like before he mimed the running with a grin.

"...Enjolras please stop this."

"...You have cried?"

"For you. I thought you'd been killed."

"...Love is true..."

"Of course. Why would I lie?"

"Even though I am male?"

"Of course, Enjolras, please don't get yourself killed over this."

"I want to be over with you."

"...You want to be done with me?"

"No no! Want to be _over_ with you. Over on the side."

"I want that too, very much. All you have to do is climb over here. I can house you and your father, please."

Enjolras got a strange look in his eye before looking down and taking a deep breath in. He then stood in his window. Grantaire attempted to tell him that jumping was not a good idea, not a good way to get over. They had time to make some sort of contraption. But his mouth couldn't form words fast enough for that. Now Enjolras was dangling from his sill. Grantaire was strong enough to pull him in. Enjolras knew he was and remained calm. 

With a cat-like grace he moved around the room while Grantaire yelled that he could've been killed in the jump over. Running his fingers over the available surfaces before his eyes finally came to rest on his bed. "Want you."

"...Want me to what?"

"Want _you_. Love me."

Grantaire seemed to understand and pressed a chaste kiss to Enjolras's lips. He pulled away to check Enjolras's reaction. He just smiled and nodded. "Very good. Again." They fell back on Grantaire's bed giggling and trying to figure out how everything was meant to work.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Grantaire admitted after he fumbled a few times that he hadn't done anything of this sort before. Enjolras promised the same of himself which calmed Grantaire down. So there he lay. In his bed, sweaty, tired, happy. Draped over Enjolras who was mumbling something in french. Grantaire pulled the thin blanket over them both and attempted to warm them. "I love you very much Enjolras."

"Love you too Grantaire."

"...You do?"

"Obliviously."

Grantaire was fairly sure he had attempted to say obviously. He smiled and kissed Enjolras's forehead before hold him tight. "I have leave. Father will wonder."

"Oh, just stay here. You're already in the west. You're free Enjolras. Please stay that way. And I know you don't want to abandon your new friends but Enjolras, Marius can no doubt fly the lot of them out. Don't risk your life for this, please."

"...Cannot abandon all of East. Couldn't live with myself."

He sat up, pale back revealed. He had a few freckles that had quickly become his favourite part of Enjolras. Among his other favourites of course. He fumbled while getting dressed but was done soon enough. He kissed Grantaire goodbye, whispering over and over that he loved him, in french. 'I love you' was the only phrase he'd managed to learn in french. He jumped back over. After getting a running start and playfully shouting 'run run run'.

  

~~~~~

  

It was announced in the papers the next week. 'Soviets burn tenements too close to wall'. They'd done this because obviously Grantaire wasn't the first to have the idea for his loved ones to simply jump across. The wall was getting bigger, that no man's land was being made, a mine-field, one couldn't easily scale the wall any longer. Buildings had to go. Without warning these tenements were burned to the ground. Grantaire hadn't been home when it happened. He came home to rubble and screams of anguish. He added his own.

  

~~~~~~~

 

England would be his new life. He'd finally gotten the long-awaited postcard from his father. Saying they at long last had an address to call home. Grantaire would tell him of their mother, his wife, later. For now he was on a refugee ship. Traveling to England as fast as possible. It contained those smuggled from the east who were desperate to get away from father germany for good. They all looked so tired.

It was there that he saw those friends of Enjolras's. They looked happy to finally be leaving. In broken German, far worse than Enjolras's had been, Feuilly told him that Marius and a few others had managed to charter a plane while they were smuggled through. Grantaire tried to tell them all he knew of England to prepare them but he knew no more than what his father would tell him on occasion. And that had stopped a few years ago with no explanation.

"Colder than it is over there I think."

"You are family there?"

"Father and sister live there now. I'm meeting them...Ever since...When Enjolras's building was burned I knew it was just...time to leave. Time to forget Germany and try again somewhere else."

Feuilly obviously didn't understand that but he nodded along sympathetically. The ship was cold and over crowded but he could deal with it. He deserved it in his mind. He'd let the boy he loved burn to death in his home. He felt he needed to sleep on deck as it rained. It was only fair.

 

~~~~~~ 

 

He found his way off the boat. Holding a suitcase full of his mother's memory. Her books, her paintings, her clothes. Nothing of his own but a change of clothes and a sketchbook. The suitcase itself had even belonged to his mother. He stood in a long line. Waiting to be stamped into the country. Having no issue once he finally got up to the front. He followed the crowd out. The sunlight hitting him too hard. Germany was so grey in comparison. Everyone was welcoming family and friends. 

Grantaire searched for his father but didn't honestly expect to see him there. He hadn't told him of his coming. He wandered around until he found the exit. Then managed to get out 'hotel' to direct the cab driver. England was nice. But it was nothing compared to Germany. Sure Germany was an oppressive, depressing, suicidal place. But it did have Enjolras.

He barely payed for a motel room. So much more space than he was used to. The room next to him was having an argument in Italian. Though they may have been shouting murder threats at each other it was such a beautiful language. Reminded him of the way Enjolras's rants in french, while they made no sense to him, sounded heavenly.

 

~~~~~~

  

The next morning he was off for some city outside of London where his father was living. He stared out the window the entire time. Hoping the meter wasn't running to high, he was on his last bit of money. He was so very sure he'd been stiffed when he had to exchange it all for pounds anyway. 

They pulled up to a tenement building. It looked much like Germany had. But it was cleaner. It was still flanked by other tenements but it was more modern. It didn't carry the depressive aura that Germany had. It held hope. He was on the fifth floor.

Breaking his mother's death to them was one of the hardest things he'd had to do. He comforted them both as he opened the suitcase of her memory. He'd taken every photo of her to add to those already around the rooms. That was another pleasant surprise. This one had rooms. Plural. He had his very own as well. Right at the back with a view of...well another tenement but he'd liked that view before.

 

~~~~~~~

 

He was half-asleep. Sketching Enjolras to death. Over and over. Everything he could remember about him. Everything. The arch in his back, the way his toes had curled. That blush he had. Partly from the chill partly from the embarrassment. He'd never missed another soul like this. He missed his mother dearly. Of course. She was his mother. He missed everything about her. But she had died on her own terms. She had made the decision and it was a fast death. 

Enjolras had been burned alive. So archaic and inhumane. Grantaire was constantly haunted with the image of Enjolras, terrified to the core as the flames lapped closer and closer until he couldn't back up anymore and simply had to let them take him in the slowest most agonizing way.

It was then that he heard the distinct sound of gravel against his window. Only then did he notice he'd been crying. He poked the window open as his heart threatened to give out. "I am living in England! I find you here, see you walk up, I screaming screaming happy happy! Love is here! Love safe!"

"...The...fire. Your building was rubble."

"I run run run."

 

 

 


End file.
